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remember back in Brooklyn late nights
we'd sneak up on the roof with flashlights
lie on our backs and count the stars
we'd talk all night about god and spaceships
and little laika, the first in orbit
and whether or not there might be life on mars
it used to be easy then to dream
it's getting harder and harder to believe in anything
cause there's nothing holding the stars up in the sky
no reason or rhyme to this life
nothing keeping us together you and i
'cept you and i
i think a heart is what you make of it
it's not love if it doesn't hurt a bit
if we just hold on tight we'll get through this
you and i, i still believe in you and i
you used to hold my hand all the time
you'd get your fingers all laced through mine
like New York city streets through the avenues
up was up and down was down back then
the world was ours and everything made sense
we believed and we never needed proof
but baby i'm giving up on meant to be
i'm starting to think that all of that is just pretty poetry
cause there's nothing holding the stars up in the sky
no reason or rhyme to this life
nothing keeping us together you and i
'cept you and i
i think a heart is what you make of it
it's not love if it doesn't hurt a bit
if we just hold on tight we'll get through this
you and i, i still believe in you and i
there'd be no such thing as fate if it were up to me
go and leave the future to its mystery
we can make it
if there's nothing holding the stars up in the sky
no reason or rhyme to this life
nothing keeping us together you and i
'cept you and i
well then a heart is what you make of it
and it's not love if it doesn't hurt a bit
if we just hold on tight we'll get through this
you and I, i still believe in you and i